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Nisha/History
}} History "When I touched it, I broke it. Without realizing it I became a monster." The Dryad are a folk of proud ancestry, messengers of nature and wielder of powerful magic, capable of altering the laws tied to the world, over centuries mastering affinity with bestiary - commonly known as summoning. The Physadelia family cherished the traditions long passed down generations. Welcoming their firstborn, Lenora, to the world, the proud couple in early years began training the girl to one day inherit the summoning powers kept alive in their blood. Unexpectedly, they were blessed with yet another child, which was named Nisha, as he was born during a dark and stormy night. Judging from appearance and indistinguishable lack of aether flow, it was no secret that their baby boy was more human than dryad. The siblings were raised side by side, Lenora as the courageous successor of the family, and Nisha as free and cheerful child, who enjoyed protection of the best magicians the royal community could hire. Attending festivals and political gatherings, both siblings grew famous and well liked by outstanders. Until unfortunate circumstances disturbed the peaceful life. The day of the ritual ceremony. It was the day Lenora, who had grown into a breathtaking young woman, would accept the blessing of aether, determined to bind her blood to a career of summoning. The event invited dyrad from far lands, friends and business partners. Cheerful chatter filled the halls as the purebloods awaited the events bound to unfold any minute. Like any other, Nisha who was now eight years old, attended his sister's ascension. Though boring conversations held by adults sparked boredom inside the child. Would anyone notice if he decided to play outside the view of his parents? No soul would miss him until his father acknowledged the absence of his son as the ceremony started. Despite guards searching for the boy, he remained unfound. The ceremony could not postpone, so despite worry the family initiated the ritual. It was a beautiful display of colors and nature surrounding the girl casting the magic allowing her to connect to Neaul's roots. Minutes would separate her from absorbing the magic source into her body, bestowed by the god of aether itself. Glee and cheer echoed. Until suddenly silence cut through the crowds. It was the split of seconds telling the tragedy. When Lenora had taken her step into the center of the ritual field, fear reflected in her eyes as her younger brother stumbled into the scene, unaware that he had found himself back on the ceremony field. Aether struck, mercilessly. What it hit was however not the intended host, but the small form of the innocent boy, whose fragile body threatened to burst at the amount of aether flowing through his veins. Screams echoed in Nisha's memory, adding to a devastating pain in both his hands and back, which he could no longer move. Years passed and scars had not faded. Now a young adult himself, Nisha endured the burden of his recklessness. What was supposed to be his sister's were now his powers, yet the hands marked by green lightning would not obey. The mocking was no harm to him. Though throughout the years, the words came back to him in nightmares. "An embarrassment to our ancestors.", "A mistake to be born". Though it wasn't the content spit at him, rather than the unbearable guilt he felt for stealing away the life of his sister, who had been nothing but loving to him. He had no future. They had no future. Nisha did not belong with the dryad. An aberrant of such immense negative impact - where was his place in the world? Many years passed without learning an answer to this question, and what once was merely a boy grew into a well educated and independent man. “I don’t have anything. I am nowhere. I will never be anyone.” Determined to avoid his fate, Nisha vanished from the surface, abandoning the benefits of Dryad royalty to take his life into his own hands. Establishing a new, quieter life was without question the easier task, though his powers remained rampant, causing frequent unwanted encounters with beasts far from his control. He does not remember nowadays just how many hours or days had passed in which his mind drowned away in the magic knowledge of Almaria’s libraries. Eventually, however, his efforts paid off, as he had discovered a material long forgotten, allowing to diminish the magic escaping his fingers. Soon, his hands dressed in gloves made from said material, reducing the accidental encounters greatly. Though, even with protection, the danger was not entirely contained. Every time he touched a tree, an animal, even water, anything connected to the aether’s core could open a summoning portal. There was only one occupation which he deemed safest, to work with what was known the weakest aetherial source - rock. Near to no incidents occurred ever since he started his training as a blacksmith’s apprentice. Life seemed peaceful at last. Though you know what they say: “Don't count your chickens before they're hatched”. Plot References }} Category:Subpages Category:Histories